


The Untimely Castration of Dan Avidan

by xtrachocolatechips



Category: Game Grumps
Genre: Extremely Brief Descriptions of Sexual Content, First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Pining, Prompt Fill, Sleepy Cuddles, Storms, Unbeta'd, this is the most disgustingly sweet thing i have ever written
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-04
Updated: 2015-10-04
Packaged: 2018-04-20 03:51:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4772441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xtrachocolatechips/pseuds/xtrachocolatechips
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It took a late night phone call, a comically large umbrella, and a bad fanfiction to get Barry and Dan to confess their feelings for each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Untimely Castration of Dan Avidan

**Author's Note:**

> first and foremost, i would like to give a really big apology to the anon who requested me to write this ten million weeks ago. since school's started again, my classes have been sucking away most of my life and i haven't had a lot of time to write, so that sucks.
> 
> i would also like to apologize to that anon because they were probably expecting a 200 word excerpt, but what they got instead was this 6.2k word fluffy monstrosity!! i wanted to establish some sort of build-up for the prompt they gave me, and this was just kind of the result 
> 
> it's also unbeta'd so it probs sounds kind of choppy but whatevs
> 
> anyways, enjoy!
> 
>  **Anonymous asked:** _**razzabang where they read a fic together on grumps then later dan approaches barry and is like 'dude ur hot and I like u' pls xx**_

Barry will argue that it started when the conversations he and Dan had before bed grew to last a lot longer than they should’ve—or maybe, he later says, maybe it was when he would come home earlier than Dan, and would record an episode of Game of Thrones they didn’t want to miss so they could watch it together later. Dan, however, claims it started when they cut down on take out—since Barry was cooking meals for them more often, Dan would sometimes help him out. It may have also started at work as well, he adds, because there came a point in time where Barry would be editing something, and Dan would walk over, lean against his desk, and just talk his ear off about nothing and everything while he worked.

After a bit of debate, though, they will both eventually agree that it started out with a certain abrupt phone call at three in the morning.

 

xXx

 

It should be noted that Barry was typically a very lenient guy, but even the kindest people can be pretty ornery when awakened at ungodly hours in the night. Hence why when his ringtone began to sound throughout his bedroom, he sat up groggily, just about yanked his phone off of its charger on the nightstand, squinted bitterly at the number flashing on the screen, and jammed the “answer” button with his thumb. He pressed his phone to his ear and let a gentle greeting tumble out of him without much thought, “What the _fuck_ , dude?”

“Shit, okay, I knew this was a bad idea—I knew you’d be super grumpy, and I just—sorry, I don’t even know why I thought I should do this—“

Dan rambled on with apologies for a good twenty seconds, in which Barry sat up straight to adjust himself. It was like Dan’s voice was a slow-working pacifier for his sleepy anger because he could never be annoyed with him for very long. This was _Dan Avidan_ we’re talking about—wide eyed, floofy haired, sensitive and genuine Dan Avidan.

His thoughts ended up lingering on Dan and all his wonderful qualities for quite some time, so he wasn’t even aware that he tuned him out. “Barry?” Dan called his name again, slightly cautious.

“Yeah? Sorry, I just kinda zoned out.” He rubbed at one eye, and stifled a yawn that bubbled up in his throat before continuing, “Sorry for, uh, being grumpy—what do you need? And, um, how’s Portland?” Drowsy Barry’s thoughts and words always tended to be a little jumbled.

There was a few seconds of silence between them that Dan broke by laughing—how Dan could manage to sound so awake at that hour, Barry would never know.  “God, you sound so fucking tired and annoyed; I can’t believe I didn’t think this through. …And Portland’s just as great as it usually is, man. I think Brian and I have flown here enough by now that it’s started to feel like home.”

“More so than our _actual_ home that we _actually_ rent out?”

Dan tutted. “I would say something about how salty you’re being right now, but then I remembered that I’m the one who woke you up at fucking three in the morning and totally deserve it.”

“Yeah, dude, what the fuck. Why are you calling me? I got editing stuffs to do tomorrow. Or today, I mean. ‘m all sleepy and m’ brain’s acting weird.” He wondered if Dan was sleeping in just his underwear, because that was typically how he strutted around their house after dark.

Also, why the _fuck_ was he thinking about that?

While Dan laughed again, albeit more nervously, Barry contemplated how many packets of tea they had in their cabinets at moment, and decided to climb out of bed and head for the kitchen to make some. “That’s, um—there are two reasons for that.”

“Okay, first one, go.” It wasn’t long before he had his head stuck in one of the cabinets, sifting around for the right pot. Dan immediately took note of the loud, metal-clanging noises.

“Are you in the kitchen? I thought you were in bed.”

“’m making tea now because you woke me up and you’re taking extra-long to tell me why.”

“Sorry, sorry. It’s…” He took in a deep breath, “…I just can’t sleep.”

“Ah. Brian snoring again?” Barry had brought a pot to the sink, and was turning on the faucet to watch it fill up with water.

“Mmhmm. _Way_ louder than he was last night.”

“So, you decided to call me because… you want me to read you a bedtime story or something?”

“I called you because you’re fun to talk to, I’m super bored, and I really enjoy your company. Jeez, Barry, gimme a break.”

Now it was his turn to laugh; as he placed the pot on the stove to boil, he couldn’t distinguish the residual heat that rose from the water from the heat that rose in his face at Dan’s kind words. “What’s reason two?”

Oblivious as he could be, Barry barely picked up on the fact that Dan’s tone was suddenly more on edge. “…There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you for a while—“

“—Dammit, Daniel, I already know you like dicks. We’ve had this conversation before.”

Dan scoffed, “No, not _that_ , you big dumb. It’s something different, but possibly just as big as that. It’s been on my mind for a while, and I’ve been struggling with deciding when to tell it you—a-and like, I dunno how you’re even gonna take it since this call is kind of a spur of the moment thing, plus it’s late and you’re really tired—“

“—Fuck-it adjustment, dude. Practice what you preach.”

At Dan’s annoyed groan in response, Barry grinned to himself. “Y’know, your sleepy sass really isn’t making this any easier.”

“You’re right,” Barry agreed, even though the faintest of smiles present in his voice easily gave away his teasing demeanor, “I’ll shut up now. What is it that you want to tell me?”

“…Are you standing or sitting?”

“I am just now preparing to sit down at the kitchen table with a nice, relaxing cup of chamomile tea. Thank you for asking.” He’d poured the steamy water into his favorite mug, and was now absently stirring a tea packet around in it with a spoon.  He removed a napkin from the roll holder on the counter and wrapped it around the cup so as not to burn his free hand too much, then retreated to sit at one of the table’s chairs with his knees pulled up almost to his chest.

“Okay. Ugh, God, how do I start this…?” This time, Barry could actually tell Dan was a little tense, so he adjusted to the shifting mood of the conversation by listening to him with rapt attention. “...Barry, you’re like—you’re absolutely fucking amazing and wonderful; you’re someone I wouldn’t trade for the world. I really appreciate you, and these past three years we’ve spent living together have been some of the best in my life.” The more Dan continued on, the redder his roommate’s face became; his now-trembling fingers curled tightly around the mug’s handle as he slowly set it down. “I love spending time with you. Especially over the last few months, I’ve just sort of… reaffirmed my appreciation for you, if that makes any sense?” Barry couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, “Sorry, this is weird—“

His voice came out meek and hoarse, “Dan—“

“—No, fucking listen to me, okay?” There was a crack in Dan’s voice that almost made Barry start hyperventilating, “I’ve wanted to tell this to you for a long time now. I’m… I just want to say that—“

A million different scenarios were ravaging Barry’s mind; his heart yearned to burst out of his chest, breath hitched in his throat, one hand curled into a pant leg and the other nearly dropped his phone as he stared at the striped, faded pattern of his pajama pants almost in a trance, having no idea where else to look or what to say and everything was happening too fast and—

“—Arin and I destroyed Poogie on accident. Like, three weeks ago.”

_Fucking—_

“Are you _kidding me?_ ” A rather strained laugh of disbelief escaped him, and he had to rest a shaky hand on his chest to keep himself at bay, “ _That’s_ what you wanted to tell me? You were so _serious!_ ” His entire face was still burning, up to even the very tips of his ears.

“Are you upset? ‘Cause you’re laughing, and we had no idea how badly you would take this—“

“—Of _course_ I’m upset, Dan, but like…. what was up with all that build up? I thought you were gonna ask for my hand in marriage or something.” Despite the fact that waves of relief were washing over him, something tugging at Barry’s heart strings feigned slight disappointment. It caused a subtle, dull ache to form in his chest that he pointedly dismissed as unimportant. “You almost gave me a heart attack!”

“I wanted to lessen the blow, I guess.” Dan, too, was laughing. “I’m just full of fuck-ups tonight, huh?”

The young editor gave a prolonged exhale before reaching for his tea, which by then had regressed to a nice lukewarm temperature. “No, no, don’t say that....”  He took a silent moment to will his heartrate to go down, and it was only then that he allowed himself to sip from his mug—and, in the process, nearly spilled tea on himself as a result of his still-trembling fingers. “Also,” he began after setting it down again, “how did you destroy Poogie?”

As if he’d rehearsed it all, Dan immediately launched into a tireless explanation: “So, like, Arin was getting overzealous with trying to touch my hair, right? And, uh, long story short, we _may_ have accidentally knocked over our blue slushies all over Poogie’s tiny, pink, piggy body.” Barry could imagine the scene all too well—Dan and Arin fumbling like idiots on the couch, Dan later scrambling in a panic to pick up the tainted stuffed animal as if it were a priceless treasure and not something Barry and Suzy had found for discount at Target. “We tried to get it out in the wash, but the damage was really terrible, so I just ordered you a new one and hoped you wouldn’t notice. My guilty conscience was screaming at me to tell you the truth, though, so…”

“ _Dan_ ,” Barry whined, “you didn’t have to buy me anything.”

“But I felt so fucking _bad,_ dude!”

“Poogs was just a stuffed animal, Danny; I can live without him, I promise.”

“Yeah, but Poogs was a stuffed animal that you had a strong emotional attachment to, and I didn’t want to see you get all mopey and sad because of something Arin and I did when we were acting stupid.”

“Aw, Dan,” Barry’s free hand was rubbing at his ruddy cheeks; expressing gratitude to people in general was a hard enough task for him on its own, and the fact that it was specifically to Dan this time wasn’t helping him in the slightest, “stop being so nice. You’re making me all blush-y.”

“Can’t help it; like I said, I didn’t want to see you get sad.” He paused. “Are you mad at us?”

Barry actually had to stop and think about it for a moment before answering, “It was an accident, so I guess I have no reason to be. ‘m kinda upset that you lied, but I’m glad you told me the truth.”

He heard Dan huff a little, and found it kind of amusing that the older man was being way too hard on himself about this. “I still feel like a total fucking dick about the lying thing, B. I’m sorry.”

“Gah, don’t apologize anymore, okay? You’re being nice and dumb, and I’m tired and wanna drink my tea and go to bed. So just, uh…” He gave a flippant hand gesture, “…talk to me about the new NSP album, or something. Anything else is fine. How are the recordings going?”

He could tell Dan was reluctant to switch topics, but he did so anyway. Conversations about NSP somehow led to Barry rambling about his game development work, which then led to Dan badgering him with excited questions about the general happenings in his life, much to his roommate’s bashfulness. Lately, Dan had been going the extra mile to learn certain things about Barry that he hadn’t known before.

Minutes quickly turned into hours as they lost track of time in their conversation. Barry didn’t quite remember how he got there, but he later ended up back in bed with his phone still pressed to his ear, sleepily telling Dan everything ranging from career goals to weird childhood stories. In their tiredness, they giggled and possibly said a few things that they’d might regret later, but at the moment, none of that mattered—all that was important was that with their respective, dulcet voices, they were eventually able to lull each other into peaceful sleep.

 

xXx

 

The second time it almost happened was during a rainstorm, and a massive one at that.

It was the kind of rain which succeeded in soaking half of their torsos, despite them bearing the biggest of umbrellas. And, mind you, Dan’s umbrella was abnormally _huge_ —he was over six feet tall, which was more than enough for tiny, five foot-something Barry to stand under. The wind almost toppled the umbrella out of their grips a few good times until they angled it just right so that it was deflecting both the harsh gusts and the downpour.

None of the group had anticipated the storm save for Ross, who’d just begun to rant about how he was the only one who actually paid attention to the weather channel while he, Arin, and Suzy all walked off under their separate umbrellas into the parking lot. The plan was that the trio was to search for Arin and Suzy’s car, and return minutes later to retrieve Barry and Dan for the ride home. This, Suzy had claimed, was to lessen the amount of wet people clamoring into their car all at once, although seeing how Barry and Dan’s umbrella wasn’t doing much for them, that fate couldn’t exactly be avoided.

It was hard for Barry to think that minutes ago, the five were all losing their minds on the tallest rollercoaster in the amusement park, and now here they were, cold and dripping wet near the ticket booths that lined the front of the park’s entrance. Barry remarked this to Dan, who laughed and agreed with him.

(At some point, Barry became extremely aware of how close you have to be to share an umbrella. It may have been cold around them, but within such close proximity of each other, Barry and Dan were able to share what felt like a significant amount of body heat. In addition, their slippery-wet hands were frequently ghosting each other, or sliding down the handle a little bit so that they were overlapped. Every time they touched, the pair was quick to adjust so that they weren’t.)

“Well,” Dan began after a while, having to raise his voice over the torrenting showers, “If there’s anything I learned today, it’s to listen to Ross more often.”

“And the weatherman,” Barry added.

“Yeah, him too. Even though he’s only right 30% of the time.” He pointed to one of the ticket booths. “Can we go over there?” The booth had a little covered area around it, and even though Barry didn’t think it’d do them any justice, he agreed.

They hobbled closer together, if that were even possible, to make the short trek. When they reached it (Barry almost slipped a total of two times on the way there), Dan lowered the umbrella and let it rest at his side. As Barry had predicted, it wasn’t any better since they were still being sprinkled with water, but he’d take what they could get.

“I think the last time I remember it was raining this hard, I was moving into your old apartment.” Dan said, nudging Barry in the shoulder. “And we were super frustrated because the rain would start and stop, and we’d have to perfectly time when to start moving the boxes out of my truck.”

“All I can remember from then was being secretly mad at you, because Suzy had just helped me clean all of the floors the day before that, and when you came up and knocked on my door, you were like…” Barry gestured to convey the extent of Dan’s wetness, “…just _soaking_ , head to toe from the rain. It was like you ran through it.”

“Fuck, dude, I totally did. I didn’t have a comically large umbrella at the time like I do now.”

Barry snorted. “’Dan Avidan’s Comically Large Umbrella’ should be the title of your autobiography.”

“And on the inside cover, in tiny font in the corner: ‘dedicated to Barry Kramer, who can come up with sick-ass titles better than anyone else.’”

“At last! My true talent finally realized.” They both laughed, and Barry peered up at Dan as they did.

He was reminded just then of how much he liked Dan’s eyes, mostly because they’d crinkle around the edges every time he smiled. He liked the bubbly quality that was always present in his laugh, and his tall, lean, inviting, and warm figure; he liked how he could get kind of emotional sometimes (but not in a bad way), and how he had a love for medieval lore that was nerdy yet super cute, and how he would try extra hard to cook food for Barry whenever he was stuck in a rough spot, and how his personality was essentially a hyperbole for sunshine—just, everything about him was loveable, even the tiny flaws.

Perhaps he’d been gazing at Dan for a bit too long, because the other was suddenly clucking his tongue and giving Barry a playful shove that disrupted his thoughts. “Don’t look at me with those big ol’ eyes, Bear,” he teased.

He really, really liked Dan.

Barry focused his attention back to the rain, and, although he knew it was a little childish, began to imagine a scene in his head in which he’d turn back to Dan, internally brace himself, and blurt out how he felt about him right then and there, out in the open for only he, Dan, and the rain to hear. He would be extremely flustered, and Dan would just stand still in shock for a moment, eyes wide, mouth open in preparation to say a million different things, even though “Really?” would be the only thing he could manage. There was no doubt that Barry would be burning bright red as he nodded vigorously in response, and maybe, just maybe, Dan would nervously boast about how he felt the same way, and then they would mingle about their feelings for a while; the conversation wouldn’t be awkward so much as it would be tentative, because they would both be actively working to learn more about one another.

By the time Barry snapped out of his daydream, he was looking at Dan again, and the words he longed to say were hot and heavy on his tongue; there was a persistent ringing sound humming through his ears that made him unable to hear himself call out his roommate’s name. Dan gave a curious glance down at him, answering, “Yeah?” extra slow in Barry’s mind, as if the one syllable word had to take its time trickling out of him, as if the world around them was going too fast for the steady pace in which they needed to interact.

“I,” _Don’t screw this up,_ his entire body felt like it was on fire, _Please don’t mess this up,_ throat was swelling at a worryingly rapid rate, “I… think you have something in your stubble.” Barry’s entire stomach had dropped when the sentence was only halfway out of him. “Right here.” His body was under a dizzy spell and moved by itself, pointing at his own chin for indication.

 _Fuck, fuck, fuck,_ the moment had passed; the opportunity was gone, like a lit firecracker fizzing out in a quick burst of sparks. He and Dan had locked eyes, and held each other’s gazes for a tense second—Barry’s heart was still pounding at an erratic pace, face was flushed, and something in Dan’s expression briefly faltered, so quick that Barry almost missed it.

“Here?” Dan quietly said at last, prodding his chin at a random spot, “Is it noticeable?”

“Um, not really—it’s a lil’ bit of fuzz. Here, lemme…” Barry reached up to swipe his shaky thumb over his jawline. “…There.” The air between them hung with tension thick enough to be cut with a knife.

Unceremonious grooming completed, Barry let his arm fall to his side whilst Dan cracked a tiny smile, and there was a hint of mirth in his eyes that made his roommate look to the ground, embarrassed. “I didn’t know you cared so much about my face fuzz.”

“I mean…” he shrugged awkwardly, unsure of how to respond, “…you gotta keep that beard clean, dude. People can’t focus on your nice face if they’re distracted by your beard fuzz.”

“You think my face is nice?”

“Doesn’t everyone?” He retorted a little too fast, and Dan caught it and erupted into giggles.

“I don’t know, do they?”

“Fucking of course. Everyone loves your face. Stop pretending like you don’t know that.” Barry graced Dan with a light punch to the shoulder, and Dan returned the favor by patting him teasingly on the head.

They didn’t get to talk for long after that, because Arin and Suzy’s car was pulling up to the curve a few short minutes later. When the two men huddled under the umbrella again, neither of them moved their hands when they overlapped each other.

 

xXx

 

In the weeks that followed, the pair went out of their way to dance around any confrontation with one another at home—it seemed like every conversation between them always ended with some sort of build up to something they were too anxious to say, so when they finally managed to actually confess, it was at work.

On that particular day, the timer near the TV indicated that they’d been recording their Grumpcade episode for far too long, but neither of them could’ve cared less.

Barry’s exasperated laughter was filling the recording room; he could barely focus on the game anymore, couldn’t control his body’s tremors as he shook with giggles. “Don’t read the naughty bits, _don’t,_ Dan, fucking stop— we’re gonna get flagged for this—“

“—Did they just call my dick ‘the love shaft’? God, I love that. It’s not just any love shaft, it’s _the_ love shaft. The one and only. That’s so fucking beautiful. Lovelies, adjust your fanfics accordingly.”

“Oh my _God_ ,” Barry gasped out, and at last, he rested the controller on his lap and reached to wipe at his eyes, “I’m fucking crying, holy shit.”

For a precious, fleeting moment, Dan, quite entertained, watched Barry, before focusing back on his phone. He continued to scan the text of the rather flowery fanfiction he’d pulled up on it, and scrolled through it with one finger. “And listen, kids, another word of advice: anal’s not a one way trip to pound town, okay? You can’t like—just stick it in and hope for the best. There’s a lot of preparation that has go into it before everyone can fully enjoy themselves.”

“Yeah, take it from Sir Sexbang, who knows way more about sexy things than he should.”

“The Sexbang persona is so important to me, dude.” He pressed his hand to his heart for dramatic effect. “It’s _who I truly am_ on the inside.” Cue Barry reaching over to give Dan a light shove, and cue Dan bursting into his signature fit of giggles he’d become oh so well-known for.

After a bit of lighthearted bickering, Barry picked up the controller again and resumed focusing on and commentating over the game. Dan merely fell silent, further slumping on the couch as he continued to skim his phone. When Barry became a bit peeved that he was the only one carrying the commentary, he shot a tired glance at the other. “Are you still reading that?”

“Yeah. I think I found my favorite paragraph from it.” He cleared his throat, and as he began to read, he raised his voice over Barry’s  flustered protests, “ _Danny has him_ trapped _underneath him, running his hands over his bare chest while he sucks at the inside of his neck, relishing in the soft moans he_ elicits _forth from his co-worker.'_ ” Barry all but threw the controller to the ground, and practically lunged across the couch in an attempt to snatch Danny’s phone from him. A struggle ensued that consisted of both men squirming, yelling, and laughing, and Dan eventually managed to triumph over Barry when he ended up with his roommate halfway on top of him—Dan gripped one of Barry’s wrists in one hand, and held his phone high above him with the other so that the smaller male couldn’t reach it. “I’m not even at the best fucking part, man, chill!” Barry let out an exhausted groan.

“ _When Danny draws away, his lips are perfectly red. Barry looks up at him innocently._ ” He deepened his voice. “ _’Are you ready for this, Care-Bear?’ He purrs, his_ sexy _tone sending shivers down Barry’s spine_.” Dan asided in his normal voice, “This is the fucking kicker, okay? Brace yourself. _He wraps his lithe fingers around Barry’s cock, which is admittedly rather small, but Dan thinks its size only makes him cuter.'_ ” Dan hadn’t an ounce of control left by the end of that sentence— he’d thrown his head back, and was laughing so hard that tears were welling in his eyes, “If—If Kevin doesn’t title this episode ‘Barry’s Tiny Penis’, I’m telling Arin to f-fucking fire him.”

“…Next time on Grumpcade,” defeated little Barry had given up the fight long ago, and was butting his head against Dan’s chest while the other delved into hysterics, “I castrate Dan.”

“H-Holy shit, please don’t d—“

“—I will castrate Dan. Goodnight, everybody.”

Barry sat up a little to press the timer, and Dan, whom was still a worn-out, giggling mess, grabbed the clipboard off the ottoman to scribble down the end time. Since it was around 4AM by then, they were both beyond spent—thus, when Barry heaved a quiet sigh and relaxed his head on Dan’s chest again, Dan let him. He skillfully maneuvered around Barry to slip the clipboard back onto the ottoman whilst his free hand wove its fingers through his roommate’s hair.

Dan gently asked, “You don’t wanna drive home, do you?”

“Nah.”

“Cool. I was thinking the same thing.” He reached for the blanket that was strewn on the floor, and in one swift move, threw it up over the both of them. It fell upon them like a curtain, and they fidgeted until they were tucked comfortably underneath it.

To be honest, Barry will later find it a bit odd that neither of them batted an eyelash at the prospect of sleepily cuddling with each other.

Barry will also insist that he made the first move, but in reality, it was Dan who mindlessly took one of Barry’s warm hands into his own while he ranted to him about the current shitty state of their carpet back at home. It was such a casual, thoughtless action that neither of them were irked by it—that was, until something in Barry’s drowsy train of thought compelled him to weave his fingers in-between Dan’s.

The realization of what was happening came upon them at the same time, and as it did, the rest of time around them slowed to a gradual halt. When his words finally trailed off, Dan’s silence was deafening, and he looked down at Barry questioningly; Barry was already peering up at him with baited breath, eyes wide, expression encompassing hesitance.

Then, without a shred of uncertainty, Dan let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding in, and slowly curled his fingers inward so that their hands were tightly interlocked.

Simple gesture that it was, it held a heavy weight that spoke volumes, and its sheer meaning manifested itself through the reactions Dan saw in Barry’s eyes: first there was fear rushing in, then surprise, and lastly, content relief, like his entire conscience had taken a long, deep exhale.  Just to be sure, though, they both opened their mouths simultaneously to ask the same question, then burst into soft giggles when they realized that they were about to interrupt each other yet again.

Barry urged him on, “You first.”

“Okay,” Dan said, smiling small and making extra sure to not break Barry’s hopeful gaze, “Do you—“

“—Yes.”

“Fuck, that was a lot easier than I expected it would be.” They laughed, and began shifting organically until Barry was nuzzled into the crook of Dan’s neck while Dan’s free hand dipped to tease at the curve of Barry’s back; it was as if intimacy were only one step ahead of the platonism they were already used to. 

“For how long?” Dan pressed.

“I…. I honestly don’t know.” He was unsure of how to explain it without sounding like a total, lovesick puppy. “It happened slowly, I guess. Like, we started to talk more n’ stuff, and then in the middle of the day I’d randomly think to myself, ‘What’s Dan doing right now?’ Or, ‘I wonder if I should make this or that for dinner… would Dan like that?’” At this, Dan made cooing noises that Barry bashfully ignored. “Just… stuff along those lines, and I’d be confused as to why I’d think like that in the first place. “

“God, that sounds so fucking adorable, Bear.” He moved to press a kiss to his temple, and grinned wide when Barry flushed deeply and squirmed a bit in response.

“I-It was more nerve-wracking than anything, y’know— to wake up one day and come terms with the fact that I wanted to bone my roommate. That was really tough.”

Dan hummed in agreement. “It was pretty much the same for me. I was actually terrified for a while after I realized it—I had no idea how to act around you. That was the worst; I felt like a fucking high-schooler.”

“…Did you write my name on you and Brian’s lyric sheets, and draw little hearts around it?”

“Of _course_ , dude. All day, every day.”

“Does that also mean you were the one who carved our initials into that tree outside?”

“Yep, all me. You caught me red-handed.” Barry giggled, and although Dan had heard his laughter plenty of times before, he decided right then that they were some of the most pleasant sounds he’d ever heard.

After absently pressing a few thoughtless kisses into Dan’s collarbone, next, Barry lightly prodded at his skinny ribs with one finger. “So, do you remember that time you were recording in Portland, and called me at like 2AM?” _That_ little fiasco had been plaguing his mind for quite some time.

“Unfortunately, yeah.”

“You weren’t actually calling to tell me about Poogie, were you?”

He’d sighed through his nose at the question. “Yes, and no. I mean, not at first. The Poogie deal was a back-up just in case I couldn’t work up the courage to tell you everything. Funny story about that, though: I talked to Brian about how I felt about you way before that, and then I called Arin before I called you—“

“— _Arin_ knew?”

“The whole office knew.” Barry emitted an exasperated whine; Dan comfortingly patted the back of his head. “I called Arin before I called you, and he was way more pissed off at me than you were. I was a worried mess, and Arin was just like, ‘Fuck you, just tell him how you feel. Don’t call me this late ever again.’”

“What a swell guy.”

“Yeah, yeah. A real charmer.” Rubbing small circles into the small of Barry’s back, he now found it fitting to prod at the younger male as well. “Also, do you remember that one time we went to the fair, and it was raining like hell, and you were really concerned with my beard fuzz…”

“Augh, don’t remind me, please.” Barry buried his face into Dan so that his voice was muted—he’d _really_ hoped he’d forgotten about that by then. “I felt so stupid after that. I was so ready to tell you everything, and I ended up just fumbling with my words…”

“I think you’re being too hard on yourself. We both kind of screwed up in the whole confessing department, so no one’s really at fault here.”

Barry raised himself up slightly to give Dan a pointed look of stern protest, and maybe it was because he was a little too caught up in the moment, but something about the way Barry looked right then—hair disheveled, lips pulled into a cute, mocking pout—prompted Dan to sit up so that he was backed against the arm of the couch, gently cup Barry’s face in his hands, and slowly lean in centimeters away from his lips until they were gloriously meeting halfway.

The moment their lips met with a subtle vigor that they both weren’t prepared for, Dan knew it would be like everything he imagined, but better. Barry’s fingers were nervously bunching into the shirt around Dan’s chest, and he was more than ecstatic in following the other’s careful, hypnotic lead, submerging himself in the slow fluidity of it all. Neither of them wasted a moment by parting for long—there would be a split second in which they could tangibly feel each other’s hot, heavy breaths before they would immediately connect again like lost magnets, tasting, teasing, always wanting more, spreading a certain warmth to each other that urged Barry to wrap his arms around Dan’s neck, and made Dan press deft touches into his newfound-lover’s waist and back. The intimate way they were pressed flushed against each other made Barry’s head spin, made his skin burn up from head to toe. In the process of trying his best to memorize the curve of Dan’s lips, he released soft whimpers that Dan eagerly ate up.

They continued on for what felt like forever, sharing experimental kisses that were sometimes fast and hard, and other times slow and gentle. The whole moment felt like consolation for all the shy, lingering glances they’d exchanged over the past few months; for the times they’d spent dishing out awkward, semi-flirtatious remarks at home, and—worst of all— for the times when they’d almost confess, but back out at the last minute in fear of confronting something so big and different that they may not have been able to handle it. And yet here they were now, ridden of all anxieties, shamelessly indulging in each other as if it were the only thing they knew how to do.

For the ghost of a moment, the thought even occurred to Dan that he could spend the rest of eternity just kissing this _one_ specific person and be perfectly content with it, and the fright this initially made him feel was swept away by excitement as soon as Barry drew away for air. He was taking in these adorable little panting breaths, touching his forehead to Dan’s, his eyes fluttering close again, and as Dan watched him, his heart swelled with pure adoration.

“I love you a lot,” Dan blurted out then, because it felt so _right_ to finally be able to say that without constraints, to say that and just know that his feelings were reciprocated, “you know that?”

His sincere brown eyes searched Barry’s delightful, diminutive expression—the younger male couldn’t stop the blissful smile that was tugging at the corners of his lips. With a shaky exhale and a slight shake of the head, he calmly clarified to Dan with dripping sarcasm that no, he, in fact, did _not_ know that, and Dan saw that as the perfect time to fully envelope him in his arms so he could proceed to pepper his neck in a plethora of tiny, loving kisses.

All Barry could think then was that one of them really, _really_ should have said something a lot sooner, but being snuggled on the couch with Dan was a moment so perfect in itself that he was immensely more glad that they didn’t. Even better was the weight that’d been lifted off their chests, and knowing how easy it was going to be for them to adjust to a new type of relationship that they’d practically already been a part of, except now it merely had a label that permitted unsolicited cuddles before bed and surprise kisses in-between Grump recordings. After a night of warm cuddling and repeated, whispered declarations of affection, they fell asleep on the couch under the promise of happier times to come with both their legs and hearts intertwined.

**Author's Note:**

> this is so fluffy and dumb and im sorry
> 
> [as always, here's my writing blog B) ](http://www.xtrachocolatechips.tumblr.com)


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